Hello! I know I just put this up yesterday, but since I only put the preface on and that was really short, I'm putting up this first chapter right away. Hopefully, it isn't too awkward or boring or weird or anything. Please review! And I don't own DP.


Simon

I was hiding in a cottage at the edge of the village. Nobody knew I was here. I had just arrived and was planning on making it to the other side of the village by noon tomorrow. I had just stopped here, in the middle of the night, because I needed food and new clothing. Hopefully, the male wasn't the only one living here.

Maybe he had a lovely family. He was the only person home at the moment. He seemed like a kind man. Maybe he would even be okay with me hiding here. I almost laughed at the thought of someone being alright with me hiding in their house.

Humans didn't like supernaturals. They wanted them gone. The werewolves had agreed to get rid of us. So, no, not even a single human soul would be okay with me hiding in their home.

I disgusted them. Somehow, my race was the most sickening of them all. I was even nastier than those terrible, murderous werewolves!

I agreed with that.

Raising dead bodies was not a pleasant ability. Those people had families and people that loved them. They might have saved lives. They could have been extremely happy and loving and sweet and caring. And they had to die. Whether their death was on purpose or not, they had so many things to see later on in life. So many people that they may not have realized cared about them, and then they died. They were so precious, so special, and then their life had to end.

Without having the intentions of doing it, I accidentally raised some of those poor, innocent bodies from the dead, causing them more pain than even imaginable. I was a monster. Those people did nothing to deserve that. I was so terrible for doing that.

But I didn't want to die. So I kept running and hiding myself from everyone I could- except for supernaturals.

I could tell the difference between a human and a supernatural, though I had only met four. Maya, Daniel, Peter, and Elizabeth. Elizabeth had been shot, Maya and Daniel left me, and Peter had recently found his father again. His father refused to let the sick little necromancer- yours truly- to join them on the run.

I hadn't been surprised. And who could blame the man? I was the one humans were desperately hoping would be murdered. They wanted to chop off a limb of mine in each village I went through, until I was no longer alive. I had heard this from a villager talking to another.

Werewolves would do just about anything to find me. They followed my scent, murdered anyone with it on them- even if they had nothing to do with me- and even burned a whole village once. Poor humans.

Yet I had observed them attacking so many supernaturals in public before and not even noticing my existence! How were they not able to smell my scent? Were they too busy with the current victim that they could not focus on anything else?

That did not matter. I needed to find a way to sneak past the man asleep on the bed with his door open. He was obviously a light sleeper; I had just taken a single step and he jumped awake, his light green eyes searching his room for anything slightly suspicious. I froze, stilling myself and breathing slowly. He quickly fell asleep once again.

Maybe I will have to stay in this closet until he leaves the cottage, I thought worriedly. How long will that be? What if he reaches in here and then sees me? I can't let him see me! I'll surely be taken to the werewolves!

An idea popped into my mind almost immediately. No, no, no! That's a horrible idea! Why on Earth would I possibly want to do that? That will scare the poor man to death! He doesn't need to see that!

I had no choice. I had been an idiot by deciding the closet was a safe hiding place when I heard the front door open. Now, I had to raise something near. That would distract the man. If I was lucky, he would go outside to find the creature.

Feeling suddenly ill, my eyes closed and I felt for any spirits. Soon, I found something. A raccoon. Then, I imagined putting its spirit inside the body once again, repeatedly. Soon, I heard the critter cry out in pain. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Why had I been so stupid?

"What?" The man mumbled tiredly, scratching his head. "What is making that noise?" He got out of bed, just as I wished he would. After I heard the door spam shut, I quickly ran out of the closet and jumped out the window.

Once I reached the lake, I sat and released the raccoon. I decided to continue on and reach the more crowded part of this village.

Oh, my goodness. Excuse me. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Chloe Annabelle Saunders. I am, if I haven't already made it obvious, a rather powerful necromancer. The only necromancer on the Earth. I am seventeen years of age. My mother and father were human, and when we found out that I was a necromancer, they were immediately disgusted and shoved me out of the house with nothing but Mother's red cloak. I was only nine years of age when that happened. With an incredible amount of luck, I survived.

Peter was the first supernatural I met. A half-demon with the odd power of being able to shoot lightning out of his hands. He gave me the necklace as a thank-you gift for saving him from werewolves. Peter informed me he received it while gaming. The nan was three years older than me, and i had been fifteen when we met. He recently had became an adult. At the time, it was a gorgeous ruby red shade. As soon as the jewel touched my pale skin, though, it became a vibrant, electric blue. So did my hair. They both matched my eyes.

Peter and I had been horrified. What was happening to me? Why did the jewel cause that? Had a witch done something to it? Was it evil? What was going on?

Peter told me he had met a witch before, named Victoria, and that her mother(who was also a witch) told him everything there was to know about all the supernatural races. He hasn't been sure, but he thought that the necklace was specifically designed by a man named Samuel Lyle to control power. Depending on your strength, the color would change.

With Peter's help, I was able to survive. I was about to die of starvation. He had given me food, not even realizing yet that I was a necromancer. Then, the werewolves had found us.

A year later, we met Elizabeth, Liz for short. She was a tall blond girl, with light blue eyes. All men she walked by ogled her; absolutely disgusting. She didn't even seem to notice.

Liz hadn't had to worry about werewolves. Her family had sheltered her. She was one of the few lucky supernaturals who had it easier than the rest. When I first saw her, I had been quick to judge. But wouldn't you have been mad yourself, if you were in my place? You see a girl, living like royalty when you have to worry about whether you could be seconds away from death every single day? One who has nice clothes, a nice figure, a nice place to sleep, and nice food, while you have others' clothes, the body of someone the age of twelve,the forest, and food you find on the street? It was not fair.

But I would have never guessed Liz was the kindest person on the planet. She had family issues, a rich father who abused her, and nobody to talk to. Then, the werewolves had murdered her whole family. She was lost, scared, confused, and hurt. And I had despised her.

I could hardly believe she forgave me. But the only problem I ever had with her was that she pitied me. The foolish, disgusting necromancer who had been on the run since a young age. I did not want pity. I had moved on from my past. I had learned from it.

Still, Liz was a lovely girl. The same age as me. She sometimes talked a bit too much, but I understood that she was glad to finally have someone to speak with, to relate to. I was glad as well.

I knew not to let myself love anyone or anything after my parents forced me away from them. Do not get attached to anything. Do not fully trust anyone. Do not ask for help from a human.

But those rules that I had made for myself had been broken by Peter and Liz. I had made it through the six years before them easily because of those rules. And I had loved the two of them more than anything.

Maya and Daniel came along a couple months after Liz. They were nice, but only trusted each other. They only stayed with us to find food and shelter faster. A month later, they had decided to go off on their own.

Liz died a year later.

I had been broken by her death. I rarely talked, rarely slept, rarely thought about anything other than Liz. After her death, Peter and I had changed. We followed my rules again; left each other alone most of the time, hardly ever speaking.

We did that for a year. It only ended when Peter found his father, which was a week ago.

Back to the present. Did I really have to think about Liz so much? Why could I not get her out of my thoughts? We had only known each other for a year! Why did she have to remind me so much of my mother? Why?

I ran quietly down the empty, silent street, praying I would not trip. The sun was beginning to rise. Maybe, I could make it to the other end of the village by the end of the day.


I heard the screaming before I saw the smoke rising above the rooftops. I gasped as I heard a roar.

I had been found by werewolves.

I started running straight ahead, seeing that the street parallel to the one I was on was currently burning, so nobody could get onto this one. That thought was proved wrong when a boy my age leapt out in front of me, not even realizing I was there, and started sprinting faster than I could ever sprint down the street. It immediately relaxed me.

I had not been found. The boy had. What had he been doing before they came along? Was he alright? I followed him, hoping to catch up and see if he could possibly help me.

I had, after leaving Peter, decided to go to America. They should not have any supernaturals. I could hide there much easier. Maybe, the boy was on his way there as well.

He suddenly took a turn to the left, heading down the side of a building that printed newspapers. I slowed to a walk, catching my breath. Turning around, I knew I had not been followed.

Slowly, I made my way to him. He had tan skin and dark blond hair. He was a bit under six feet. When he heard me, he opened his eyes and looked me over. When he noticed the necklace, the boy seemed to stop breathing. Finally he whispered, "My God."

I rolled my eyes at that. Was it so astonishing to see a necromancer when you are a supernatural yourself? Why is it such a huge deal to the other races?

"Who are you? Did you follow me? Why are you bothering me?" His questions rushed out of his mouth. It was obvious he did not like my race. He knew that I was trouble.

"You know what I am, quite obviously. I did. I knew they were after you. How am I bothering you? I haven't said a word to you before now," I snapped. This made me angry- the way he glared at me, his obvious discomfort.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. "Take down your hood."

Of course. He probably thought he had gone mad, that he was hallucinating. Or maybe he just hoped I was not an actual necromancer. I did as he said.

The fear in his eyes was evident when he saw my blue hair. "We need to move. Now. Or else they will catch us. You don't want to die, do you?"

His brown, almond shaped eyes widened. "My dad,"he began,"is back there and-"

"Do you have a rendezvous? We will go there if you believe he's still alive. If you managed to escape, he most likely did as well. Walk with me and we'll talk." I began walking down the street. To my astonishment, the boy followed.

"Why do you want to help me?" He inquired.

"Why does it surprise you? I need a bit of help myself, and I'm sure you could use some."

He sighed again, as if in agreement. "I'm Simon. What is your name?"

I looked up at him."Chloe."

"Alright, then. Where's your parents?"

"Threw me out when they realized I was the most despised creature on Earth. When I was nine."

His face filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Chloe."

"It is not your fault. Don't apologize. I have moved on." I looked up at him again. He had a lovely face. "Where were you headed before?"

"To my father's friend's house. Andrew. I haven't met him before, but I know where he lives."

"Then we are going there. Your father will surely know you'll head there to find him. Once we get there, I will leave you and go to where I was planning to go. I do not need to get there any time soon."

"You don't have to help me. I will be fine on my own."

Once again, I looked up at him. "You have no clue whether your father is alive or not. You are not going to be fine."

After a moment, he sighed and nodded. "Andrew lives far away. We will have to go through at least five villages to get there. Hopefully, he won't shoot you on sight. He hates necromancers as much as humans do."

I swallowed. Maybe, Simon was exaggerating. I probably wouldn't even enter Andrew's house. Simon had a pack that smelled of fresh fruit. I needed that fruit. And he might know even more supernaturals in those villages.

I knew I had to go along. I was running out of food. Peter never taught me how to hunt, believe it or not. Simon seemed willing to help after he had gotten over my race.

The sun was setting. It was getting dark. There were several villagers running through the streets, trying to get away from the fire. We ran with them, not really having another choice.

Eventually, we made it to the edge of the forest.

"We'll settle down here. We need to wake up at dawn and get moving." Simon set his bag down.

"Do you honestly believe it is safe here? The werewolves expect you to settle in the woods. It would be bet-"

My words were cut off by a twig snapping under a heavy foot.


Well, that's the end of Chapter Two! Thanks for reading! Please review! I'll try to update as soon as I can:) Have a magical day!